


Ecstasy

by devdevlin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2k18 Christmas Fest, Christmas Party, Drabble, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, One Shot, Slug Club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 08:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17179247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devdevlin/pseuds/devdevlin
Summary: Spinning and whirling, and blurring and turning, Hermione doesn't remember where she is.





	Ecstasy

Spinning and whirling, and blurring and turning, Hermione doesn't remember where she is.

The lights are bright and the music is loud, the bodies around her moving to the sounds.

It looks like it might be Christmas.

Up on the ceiling are birds. They soar with the music, conducting the swaying of the crowd below. They weave and prance, and shimmer and dance between the rows of ivy garlands, their feathers the same shades of gold as the interlaced baubles.

They're beautiful, but they're distracting and they don't do a thing to jog Hermione's memory.

She slips between the bodies, seeking a path to freedom off the dance floor. Their loud voices ring against her eardrums, and she has trouble interpreting them as anything other than noise.

She soon recognises the space she's in as her Professor's office. She thinks she remembers arriving. She thinks she remembers greeting her teacher, and complimenting his festive tie while he in turn complimented the colour of her dress.

Hermione looks down. Her dress is emerald green.

No wonder.

She also thinks she came with Tom, but of that, she isn't quite sure. That one might be her imagination.

The music picks up then, and the bells of the carol ring joyfully behind the lead vocalist's singing. The crowd sweeps in, eager to move to the melody and unwilling to release her.

Hermione supposes that if fate would not permit her off the dance floor, then on the dance floor she would stay.

And so she continues to twirl, to spin and to whirl.

Around and round,

and round,

and round,

Until she is stopped.

Hands, strong and steady, weave around her hips. They feel familiar, and they feel like _his_ , so she leans into them.

"You found me," she slurs, her light head falling back on his shoulder.

She still isn't sure if it's her imagination or not, but she doesn't feel particularly fussed either way. If it is her imagination, then it's doing a good job.

It feels real. He feels real.

His hands roam upward, over the curve of her waist, and further still, up over her shoulder blades and around her collarbone. They soon arrive at their destination, lacing around the delicate skin of her neck.

"I thought I'd lost you." His voice is low, made of husk and honey.

She hums in her throat as she slithers against him, their bodies brushing with ease due to the softness of her dress.

"What have you done to me?" She asks, twisting in his hold until she can see his face.

He doesn't stop moving as he sets them into a new pace, his hands still around her neck.

"Isn't this better?" He says, and though it is a question, it doesn't sound like one in want of an answer. "Aren't you having fun?"

She licks her lips and moves her hips against him, and can feel his own excitement through his pants.

His hands tighten.

She glances around, the crowd of dancers, and networkers, and professors, and students still closely surrounding them. Their embrace is plainly visible. His possession of her is plainly visible.

She isn't sure that it's the sort of thing she'd normally allow, and it gives her the sudden feeling that he might've drugged her.

She glances back to him to ask, but finds him staring. It is intense and hungry. His pupils are dilated. His breathing is heavy.

Then, she has the sudden feeling that he might've been drugged, too.

His fingers migrate to her jawline, and he traces over the bone.

She thinks about stopping him.

She doesn't, though.

Instead she welcomes it when he brings his lips to hers, the warm sensation of oneness, of completeness, taking over. It is ecstasy. It is magic and it dominates her senses and her surroundings fade out completely.

The earth seems to roll over and fall, and there is nothing but him, and her, and them, _together_ , and then Hermione forgets where she is.


End file.
